Me, Yo, Mi

Well, believe it or not, this whole “me, me, me” thing is actually starting to get a little old. As mentioned before, I’ve been napping, cooking, hooping, taking pictures and practicing my Spanish (which is getting better with each week!!)…but I definitely could not live like this forever. I don’t feel like I’m contributing anything to the world (except I do flash my big, gummy smile to almost everyone I pass on the street, especially to Señor Negativo, which is surely spreading happiness!). My final two weeks in this beautiful part of Mexico will be dedicated only to Spanish, which means now (ahorrita) is the best time to fill you in on my top ten San Miguel de Allende highlights (in no particular order):

1) Huitlacoche - AKA corn smut, this fungus is an amazingly delicate and delicious seasonal food native to this area of Mexico. I'm sure it can be found in the USA too, but it's different here...and I would return just to be reunited with it. Tacos Don Felix serves huitlacoche in a variety of ways and also has the three best waiters in all of San Miguel: Emilio is ten and adorable, Lalo is 20-something and as guapo as physically possible, and Felix, the owner, has a heart that radiates kindness. Between the servers and the food, this might just be my favorite restaurant in the world. 

Emilio explaining the dessert choices

Huitlacoche quesadillas

I'm going to miss La Reina de Jugo when I leave!

2) Jugo - I've also discovered a new love for fresh squeezed juice. My appreciation for juice might be directly tied to the woman down the street who sells it. I love her. She is older, extremely sedentary, constantly in good spirits, has a contagious laugh, and almost always holding a fly swatter. I felt a little weird taking her picture (even though I've become one of her best customers), but I captured her in this photo of the juice & honey.

La Parrocchia on the Friday of Sorrows

3) Semana Santa - Possibly the most exciting part of my stay here was experiencing the week(s) leading up to Easter. It put Catholicism into a whole new light for me. From what I understand, San Miguel de Allende celebrates this time of the year like no other place on Earth. The events were beautiful and strange and magical...and included a 12 mile midnight pilgrimage to carry a miraculous statue from one church to another (a tradition that started in 1812), a reenactment of Jesus's last hours (including a real crown of thorns and blood), temporary and unbelievable murals of flower petals covering the streets, altars galore dedicated to the Virgin Mary (most of which were inside people's homes!), fireworks, fantastically shaped palm fronds, food symbolizing the tears of Our Lady of Sorrows, real tears, colorful decorations everywhere, and exploding paper-maché dolls that represent Judas. Easter will never be the same.  

Jesus, made of flower petals in the middle of the night...It was trampled soon after I took this photo.

Palm Sunday in the Parrocchia

Perhaps the most kid-friendly altar during a day dedicated to the Virgin of Sorrows

Getting ready to blow up evil effigies symbolizing Judas on Easter
(mostly witches, devils and political figures)

Overlooking Guanajuato

4) Guanajuato - An old mining town about two hours away, it is also the birthplace of Diego Rivera and now known mostly for its large university population. I loved it. But I love San Miguel de Allende more. 


5) Atotonilco - My first visit here was lovely, but during my second visit I realized the deep religious and cultural importance of this church. Aside from its beauty, it has a really interesting history and is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I won't get into the details (mostly because I can't remember them right now)...but click on the link if you're interested. It's a special place, regardless of religion. 

6) Marta & Leandro - Perhaps the nicest people I've ever met. Marta is a teacher at my school, which is owned by her sister, and she & her husband Leandro live in the apartment across from my mansion. My life is better for having met them. Not only is she a wonderful teacher, but she is also a kind, funny, wise, and very artistic woman. And Leandro is a perfect match for her. 

This is an AWFUL picture of us
having sheep for breakfast.
That's right, I said 'sheep for breakfast'.

7) Shopping - But not any shopping...I LOVE all the handmade items here, from jewelry to embroidered clothes, to purses made of candy wrappers, to pottery, to pewter everything, to baskets, to dolls, to tapestries. They are all amazing and beautiful and half the price than at home. 

Cucurrucucu Paloma

8) Mariachi Music - I have a new love and appreciation for mariachi performers. They no longer make me uncomfortable while I'm eating. I welcome their presence, enjoy their company, am moved by their music, and am in awe of their talent. 


9) Plaza de Toros - This is only being added because it was a once in a lifetime sort of event...and something I NEVER thought I'd see because it goes against all my morals. That said, I went. Just like I ate sheep. I'm different when I travel. The "bullfight" was interesting in an anthropological sort of way, but it was also unsurprisingly disturbing and sad. I wasn't just sad for the bull, though...I was bothered by the many men who partake in this sort of work for a living - many of whom are risking their lives for the sake of entertainment. The horses are also terrified to be in that ring and chased by a bull. There is definitely an ancient, Roman feeling to it all...No me gusta. But I'm glad I went.

And the people cheered......and the bull died...and Mr. Pink did the walk of pride. Bravo. 

I don't get it. 

10) Visitors!!!!! Not one, but FIVE, of my favorite people came to visit ME!

Rachelle!!!

Natcho!!!

My mom, Chuck & Mary Lou
(my mom's best friend since childhood)
They love to line up in order of height.

In two weeks I will be back "home"... Only for one week, though, and then it's off to the next (& final) adventure of this wacky "Year of Me".

Reponer

OK, I totally get why people love it here. The San Miguel fairy has definitely sprinkled her magical dust on me. However, like most places, it's a town of the 'haves' and 'have nots'...There are so many foreigners here, including lots of fancy folks from Mexico City (especially on the weekends)...and on the surface, it looks like everyone is together...but in reality, people here seem to lead very separate lives. The "extraneros" and locals don't really seem to merge, except superficially (there are exceptions, I presume). Different groups of people lead their parallel lives, occasionally converging in the market, the jardin, restaurant or bar...but then everyone goes back to their own space at the end of the day. I guess when you have racial, socioeconomic and cultural differences, segregation is natural...and maybe this is a microcosm for the whole world.  That said, if I'm still single in twenty-five years (God forbid), this colorful San Miguel de Allende bubble might be a fabulous place for me to live! 

I've looked into lots of different ways to volunteer here...but I've decided volunteering (AKA "helping others") is not for me. And that's OK. Instead, I'm going to take naps, cook, hula hoop, read (fiction!!!), walk & wander, talk to random people (often in spanish!), drink my new favorite beer (and freshly squeezed juice; not at the same time), study spanish, take pictures, watch the sunset (& sometimes the sunrise), explore outside of "centro" San Miguel,  and learn how to make nichos (a folk art from this area). And I don't need your permission. :)

Hooping on my terrace at sunset 

Too comfortable. ¿Es posible?

That's my room on the 2nd story.
That's my hooping deck up top. 

Something about my plan to study Spanish in Guatemala just wasn't sitting right with me. Even though my flight was purchased and my school chosen, I had some major hesitations about going there.  Then one morning last month I immediately knew that instead of Guatemala, I should go to the Mexican state of Guanajuato. Same initial sound; same syllable count; different country. After a few conversations and coincidences, I narrowed my plan to the colonial town of San Miguel de Allende, which is beyond beautiful and far fancier than I had expected. It's somewhat of an upscale utopian society...filled with bright colors, blooming flowers, yoga studios, boutique hotels, expensive restaurants, Buddhist ex-pats, poetry readings, and artists of all kinds. It's a Disneyland for American hippies in their sixties and seventies. I keep seeing women who remind me of myself in thirty years...wearing long skirts, comfortable sandals, folkart purses and handcrafted jewelry. It's kind of freaking me out.

I don't regret choosing to come to San Miguel, but I am feeling slightly disappointed about being in such an Americanized town. (There's even a Starbucks here!!!!) Someone reminded me last night, though, that these next two months are what I make of it. I can choose to stay in my comfort zone by hanging out at the ex-pat places, speaking in English and floating on the surface of this town...or I can choose to dive deeper into immersion. We tend to gravitate toward what feels familiar and it's up to me whether or not I leave that safety net. Only time will tell. 

Sunset from a fancy deck at a fancy home with fancy people while eating fancy cheese.

Guinness on St Patrick's Day with Connie

On my first day here I somehow got completely lost while walking around town and consequently will never again underestimate the importance of a map. Since then, I've gotten the lay of the land and now have the basics: the market, the bank, the post office, the bar. Speaking of bars, my trip to this town's only Irish pub on St. Patrick's Day turned out to be very strange (in a bad way), so my classmate took me to her favorite hangout spot, La Adelita, which has now become a favorite of mine too. Coincidentally, this bar has a taco shop right next door that serves food reminiscent of late night TJ street vendors. Delicious & cheap.

And they get a day off from school for this!

Connie & I convinced our Spanish teachers to take us to see the primavera parade, which is a way to welcome springtime with all the preschoolers in town. It's quite a big deal. The parade is also a way to spread the importance of needing clean drinking water and protecting the environment (through the use of fairytale costumes?). This was 1) a reminder for me not to drink the water here and 2) shocking that even the residents can't drink their own water. How horrible! Not only is buying bottled water expensive, but this must also be creating an insane amount of trash!


I met a local couple yesterday who suggested that I attend the Gran Charreada today. Trusting their advice, I found my way to the rodeo arena just outside of town. I couldn't believe that with all the thousands of tourists in San Miguel, I'm the only one that went to the event this afternoon! I loved being surrounded by so many vaqueros and also enjoyed the fancy horse tricks, but wasn't so into the lassoing, kicking and tail pulling. In fact, I found it all a little disturbing. I know that when immersed in other cultures, one should lose a sense of judgement when it comes to differences. However, animal cruelty shouldn't be tolerated anywhere. The part that saddened me the most was the "steer tailing," which is when the horse rider (charro) chases a steer and then yanks the steer's tail, wraps it around his boot and knocks the animal into the ground.  A few of these steers couldn't move afterward. They did similar things to horses, but used ropes to lasso either the front or hind legs so that the horse loses its balance and crashes to the ground. The show could have been just as exciting and entertaining without the unnecessary cruelty and it bothered me that I was a participant in it all...especially when an animal made eye contact with me in a moment of pain (at least it did in my mind).

OK, I get it. You're manly. 

The chalk lines are muy importante! 

Cutest charro

example of steer tailing (before)

It couldn't stand up (after)

Lago di Tahoe

Stratosphere

down the street from my sister's new place

Mr. Perfect

my other Mr. Perfect

what we'll do to get vino

xoxo

Extreme sledding

Girl Power!
(putting on her chains for the first time)

Waiting & Watching & Shivering

Happiness

My father is obsessed with a tiny town in the Mantua region of northern Italy. It's actually more like a neighborhood...a little bend in the road that one can easily miss while driving past it. Olfino has become part of his identity...making its way to his license placard, his email address, the walls of his apartment, and his license plate frame (“Happiness can be found in Olfino”). I joke around with my siblings about our father’s obsession with this little place over 6,000 miles away from us, but now I get it….because I too am starting to develop a major crush on this town, its residents and its way of life.

My great grandpa Mario left Olfino in the early 1900's, changed his name from Stefanoni to Stephens and created a new life for himself here in the USA. He stayed connected with his family & friends in Italy and continued to sporadically visit his birthplace over the years, as did some of my other relatives.  But that was it….until ten years ago when my father decided to return to Olfino after decades of minimal contact.  Since then he’s visited at least biannually, reconnecting with distant relatives and forming friendships with other Olfino families. The first two times I went with him were wonderful, but the language barrier and unfamiliarity made things kind of awkward. This last time, though, was totally different. I felt oddly at home.


The catalyst for this short trip was to attend the baptism of Rebecca, the cutest baby in Olfino. Her family runs Ristorante Olfino, which is below where my great-grandfather would stay when he'd visit. The baptism took place in a beautiful, chilly, baroque church and the reception was held at a local restaurant over many, many courses of yummy food.

The hamlet of Borghetto, part of Valeggio sul Mincio (close to Olfino)

My dad with the Stefanoni girls

Gianmarco, the future of Olfino 
& artist extraordinaire

Rebecca, Princess of Olfino

Two of my favorite people, Alberto and his mother, Eugenia

Visconti Bridge in Valeggio

Federica's lasagna al radicchio rosso -
intense & delicate & amazing

Everyone knows that the food in Italy is incredible...but did you know that the tortellini of Valeggio sul Mincio is the most famous & delicious in the world? That sauce just acts as a compliment to the pasta because noodles themselves are so incredibly perfect? That Rita makes a penne arrabiata that makes me cry tears of delight? That if the funghi gnocchi in this picture was the last meal of my life, I'd die happy? I've been back in the USA for a day and all I can think about is returning to Italy. I miss it.

Oh, and by the way, today is my 36^th birthday, which apparently means my skin will start to become thinner, my mid-section will start to become bigger, and my fertility will start to drastically drop.  The deterioration of our bodies as we age is inevitable, but it’s comforting to know we can continually improve upon our inner-aging process...if we choose to do so. I love who I’m becoming, which is the best birthday present ever!

My medieval birthday in Washington, D.C.

Independence

Central Park after a snowstorm

Surprise, surprise...spending time in NYC was the best thing I could’ve done for myself. It gave me a chance to get over the post-Africa anticlimax and it got me back on track for the second half of my year off. Now I'm ready to move forward and plan my next great adventure. 

I loved exploring the city and was in awe of all it offers. Especially the food...

Alidoro – simple Italian sandwiches with the best ingredients imaginable – freshly baked bread from Brooklyn and mozzarella that melts in your mouth. Expensive, but sooooo worth it. The woman behind the counter is a little mean, but the Italian sandwich maker totally balances her out. 

My good friend Deb and her husband brought me to a hidden treasure in Greenwich Village: an exclusive restaurant that was once Aaron Burr’s carriage house. We sat by the fireplace in the bar, sipped champagne, and pretended to be NYC elites. 

I would move to NYC just for the miso ramen at Rai Rai Ken. The flavors are so intense and I could create perfectly balanced spoonfuls for the entire bowl.  Shredded chicken is used instead of pork...and it didn't have any weird seafood surprises like the other ramen houses.  It was, by far, my favorite food find of the city. 

Please go there if you're in NYC. Do it for me. 

The experience of B & H Dairy is unlike any other place I've eaten. From the moment I sat at the counter, I felt like I was a part of their little community. I served food to the people seated behind me. I talked to the owner about his world of soups. And the cashier/assistant cook became my BFF for about 15 minutes. 

   

I had my first borsht experience at Veselka, which will forever hold a special place in my heart. 

My father took the train up from DC to spend an afternoon in the city with me. In anticipation of our upcoming trip to Italy, I brought him to Eataly, a huge Italian food emporium that opened last year by some famous chefs. It's pretty amazing and does make you feel like you're in Italy, but in the most crowded & touristy part (picture the Vatican on Easter Sunday). It's definitely overpriced and kind of ridiculous, but where else can you find amazing Italian cheeses, meats, pastries, coffee, bread, chocolate, fresh pasta, wine & gelato all under one roof?

Kilmat was across the street from where I stayed in the East Village and I was told it was known for its hot wine. I scoffed at the idea of heated wine, but on a snowy evening my curiosity got the best of me. Turns out, hot wine (spiced with cloves, brown sugar & cinnamon) is delicious! 

Mountain Gorillas in the American Museum of Natural History
(I guess this is a good option if you can't go all the way to Rwanda!)

While in Africa, I visited some amazing nonprofits and I wanted to do the same while in NYC…so I reconnected with an old colleague, David Vincent, who now works for The Door, an organization that’s been serving the homeless youth of NYC for almost 40 years. Entering The Door is like walking into a Best Practices R Us store. It has everything: crisis counselors, an array of therapists who specialize in different fields, GED test prep classes, job prep & placement services, music/art/graphic design/photography/dance classes, tutoring & homework assistance, legal services, English classes taught by the #1 ESL teacher in NYC, meals, housing services, medical & dental services...All under one roof! They are opening a charter school later this year named Broome Street Academy! It would be a great model for the future direction of Monarch School, as it expands to serve more students and incorporates more services.  

Deerfield Beach, a three hour flight & 60 degrees away from NYC 

My grandma's brick outside of the Legion

I decided to join the snowbird flock and fly down to Florida to visit my grandmother, aunt and mother, who are currently visiting my grandma’s old stomping grounds.  I’ve landed at the Hampton Gardens Senior Condo complex in Deerfield Beach, which is conveniently located right next to American Legion #162 (my new favorite hangout spot).  This trip is giving my grandmother a chance to spend time with some of her good friends and reconnect with the social scene that was once such a big part of her life. It's also allowing me to meet some fascinating seniors...infatuated lovebirds, survivors of all kinds, and walking history books.  

Reggae Mama is 87 and still going strong (she "comes alive at five"), but needs a lot of support now to do basically everything. When I was younger, I thought of her as the most independent woman I knew. She spent a large part of each year living in Montego Bay and created a whole life for herself in Jamaica that amazed me. She always seemed to have a much more active social life than I ever did...and she's famous for her ability to walk into any scenario and become friends with everyone in the room. It’s difficult to see someone who was so strong and energetic transition into needing so much help – but I guess our independence all comes to an end at some point. I’m letting this trip be a reminder to myself that everything is temporary. I'm feeling very lucky (& independent).

Impulsive Me

“Follow your instinct” always seems to be good advice, but what happens when your instinct turns out to be wrong?  In my case, you end up in New York City by yourself.  Even though I feel crazy for being here, it’s giving me time to reflect, freak out, walk in the snow, cry, think about next steps, have great conversations, explore, eat the best food ever, and rediscover what makes me ME. 

Sometimes we get lost just when we think we’re on the right track.  Kind of like hiking when you realize you’ve missed the trail…Panic sets in..and then, more often than not, you stumble upon something really amazing and beautiful that you wouldn’t have seen otherwise…and then somehow you find the path again. Sometimes getting lost can be the best thing for us because it redirects us in a more focused way.

When I returned from Africa, I felt like I had lost a sense of who I was. I’m not sure why, but my goals seemed to disappear upon my return to San Diego…and I was overwhelmed by the thought of what to do next.  I didn’t feel like the amazing African me…I became mundane me (but with great pictures and cool stories). Africa was over and I needed to decide what to do next, but I couldn’t find the passion to plan my next adventure.  

So what do you do when you lose your passion?  You follow your instinct…to NYC, obviously.  The first few days here absolutely shattered any faith I had in my intuition, but I’m confident that it will all make sense soon enough. In the meantime, I'm listening to Josh Rouse, enjoying the snow, and eating my way through the city...

Japanese Ramen...Incredible.
Minca Ramen Factory

A restaurant that specializes in Mac-n-Cheese!
(almost as good as mine)
S'MAC